


Sweet Miscommunication

by twinSky



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, M/M, Wooing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-07
Updated: 2014-12-07
Packaged: 2018-02-28 13:44:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2734760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twinSky/pseuds/twinSky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one where Derek thinks Stiles has a sweet-tooth and tries to woo him with baked goods.</p><p>(He's wrong, but it all works out.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sweet Miscommunication

**Author's Note:**

> Hello secret santa recipient; you asked for Derek POV, i got that  
> you asked for no sex, and well, tbh you would've gotten that anyway so that works out for both of us!  
> and also romance, I hope it meets your standards, haha
> 
> but yeah, this goes out to you, [malborosleds](http://%20marlborosleds.tumblr.com%20), hope you enjoy it!

Derek sees him for the first time on a Friday; he’s just switched shifts with Erica because unlike her he can actually handle being awake since five am. They work at a coffee shop for god’s sake, so he doesn’t know why she’s complaining about the ‘god awful hour of the morning’ but, it’s fine, he doesn’t have anything better to do around this time anyway.

He finds that he minds less when he walks in, the shop is pretty much empty this early in the morning, just a couple university kid’s with way too early classes and a couple business men and women still half asleep as they grumble through their orders.

The boy – man, probably, he can’t be older than twenty – looks half-asleep behind thick-rimmed glasses and uncombed brown hair as he approaches and starts mumbling through his order without looking up at him, long fingers mussing up his hair even more than it already is.

“Could you repeat that?” He asks with a blink, and hopes the embarrassment at completely spacing out doesn’t show on his face.

“Huh,” He says, and looks up at Derek for the first time eyes narrowing, “You’re not Erica,” and then he yawns and sighs like it’s not worth the effort, “Whatever, I’ll have a large black coffee and a medium of whatever is the sweetest concoction you can make here. Oh, and to go please.” He finishes off with a wink and Derek’s hand falters from where it’s entering the order into the machine.

“R-right, I’ll need your name to write on the cups.”

He eyes him, like he knows that’s unnecessary considering he’s the only one in the store right now, but he says, “Stiles,” nonetheless.

“That will be eight ninety-four.”

The boy – Stiles, he mentally corrects – grumbles something unintelligible and hands Derek a ten-dollar bill and some coins and moves over to where the drinks are picked up without waiting for his change. It’s a tip probably, and he doesn’t think he’ll get an answer if he asks, Stiles already looks asleep leaning over the counter with nearly closed eyes.

He startles when Derek places the cups before him, looks more awake then he’s seemed since he walked in, and blindly grabs for one of the cups before him, taking a large sip from the sweet one.

“Oh my God,” He screeches, “oh my god,” he repeats as he grabs both cups and stumbles out of the shop, “oh my fucking god” Derek hears him say one more time before he’s out and down the street.

He’s never seen that kind of reaction to a sweet drink, he must really like them.

 

-

 

Stiles come in again the next day, half an hour earlier than he did yesterday, looking even more dead than before. There’s another person with him who’s laughing loudly at something and seems to have Stiles’ entire weight leaning against him as they walk in. Derek frowns, scrubs the counter he was cleaning just a bit too hard.

He deposits Stiles at a nearby table and strolls up to the counter, a wide smile on his face. It’s so completely opposite of Stiles who sits at the table, head pressed against the table seemingly already asleep.

“Hey, so, I have no idea what drinks Stiles ordered yesterday but you think you could get me two of the same?

“Of course, just a moment,” and tells him the price as he beings to make the drinks.

“Oh, also, can you make sure to put some kind of mark on the sweet one; my friend over there nearly had a heart attack yesterday.”

“Alright,” he replies, and relaxes slightly at the usage of the world friend.

“The one with the check is the sweet one,” he tells him as he hands the drinks over, nodding when the other says thanks.

The guy pulls Stiles up, who groans and swats the hand as if it has offended him, and gives him the drink with the check.

It’s only after the two leave that he remembers he forgot to ask his name, and hopes Stiles doesn’t notice.

 

-

 

The next day when Stiles comes in, he’s once again alone and once again a half an hour later, he looks awake this time, hair brushed and hands stuffed deep into a navy blue cardigan. When his eyes finally lock with Derek’s he grins.

“Yo,” he says, lifting a hand up lazily in a wave and Derek inclines his head slightly in response, and berates himself for feeling flustered at just being spoken to directly, “feels like the first time I’m actually talking to you, you know.”

“You’ve been tired,” he says, because he’s never been too good at communication and at least that’s a pretty decent response.

“Yeah, but I finally got a good night’s sleep last night so I’m finally more than dead to the world.” He clenches his fist when he says this, striking some kind of victory pose, it’s more than a little cute.

“Right.”

“Not much of a talker are you Derek,” and his heart skips a beat before he remembers he wears a nametag, “that’s fine, you do you.” He finishes with a nod, seemingly self-satisfied.

“What can I get you,” Derek finally says instead of any sort of reply, because he has no idea what else to say.

“Just a small black coffee and a croissant, sadly student budget means I can’t spend too much on daily coffee.” He looks almost wistful for a moment, as if lack of extravagant coffee is one of the true plagues of his daily life.

“Nothing for your friend?”

“Nah, Scott doesn’t have to wake up before seven the lucky bastard; the last two days were just special.” He says and laughs, shaking his head like it’s his own private joke.

It’s cute too, and make’s Derek’s inside’s flutter.

“Four twelve please,” and gets Stiles his coffee as he chatters on about random things and places some cash on the counter.

It’s nice to just hear his voice, it’s deeper than he would’ve expected, in the same way that people always say his voice is softer than they would have thought. He wonders if Stiles thought the same.

As he places the croissant into the little paper bag, he stares at the row of sweets just beneath them. Stiles said he was on a budget so he’s probably disappointed he can’t have his super sweet drink, and it’s not like Derek can’t afford a dollar fifty for a chocolate cookie. He puts in the cookie along with the croissant and hands them both to Stiles along with the coffee.

“Well, I’ll be seeing you tomorrow Derek and every weekday after that.”

“Have a nice day Stiles.”

“Of course big guy,” Stiles says, “just for you.” He adds with a wink.

And Derek doesn’t get left behind flustered, nope, not at all.

 

-

 

The next day Stiles stares at him when he walks in, looks like he might want to say something, but then he shakes his head and starts up on a rant on how terrible his English professor is.

Derek gives him a red velvet muffin and bids him a nice day, Stiles replies just the same as the day before.

 

-

 

“So you’re courting him with baked goods?” Erica asks while Isaac laughs. Boyd doesn’t do anything but continue to ignore their conversation, and that’s why Boyd will always be his favourite.

“No, I’m just giving him sweets because he likes them and it’s the nice thing to do.”

“You’re nice?” Isaac questions at the same time that Erica asks, “Stiles likes sweets?”

“Of course, yes, and I hate you both.”

Of course though, they both just laugh at him in response, they’re still laughing when Boyd sighs and moves towards the door and announces their pizza is here.

At least that shuts them up.

 

-

 

Derek thinks about asking him out on a date, maybe just out to coffee –or, maybe not coffee, maybe some lunch – but he just, doesn’t.

He spends so much time trying not to stare into Stiles’ eyes and reveal just how interested he is, focuses instead on the tone of his voice as he speaks about one subject or the other, somehow always managing to pull him into the conversation even when Derek doesn’t have anything to say. He spends a lot of time thinking about Stiles’ hands and thinking mundane things like what it would feel like to hold in his own or have run through his hair. As well as, because Derek has always been a romantic at heart, imagining what it would be like to press a kiss just at the knuckles, as if Derek were a knight in shining armor from some cliché romance novel.

Derek imagines a novel worthy life with all the cliché romance things down to the last crossed t and dotted I. A picnic on a beach at sunset, a day at the fair that ends with the Ferris wheel, a hike through the woods and so many other things that Derek has never really imagined himself doing but would do with Stiles.

He imagines too much and instead of ever doing anything about it, he gets lost in Stiles’ wide smile with too bright eyes every time he hands over his order.

“Have a nice day,” he says as always.

Just as Stiles always replies, “Just for you,” and it always makes Derek happy, even if he can’t exactly place why.

 

-

 

“Aha!” Stiles yells as he’s putting fudge brownie into the paper bag, “caught you!”

He says it like it’s an actual surprise or accomplishment, as if it isn’t obvious that Derek – the only person who’s ever in this store, and works here, at this time aside from Stiles – has been the one putting the extra treat into his daily order.

“Now why do you do that Derek?” He asks, practically leaning over the counter right into Derek’s space, the first thing that comes to mind is how close Stiles is and the second is how he’s not allowed to do this. He tries telling Stiles that, but he can’t manage to get the words out of his mouth.

“Well?” He urges; leaning back out of Derek’s space and adjusting his glasses, and Derek finds himself deflating just a bit at the sudden loss of heat.

“I thought you’d like them,” he finally replies, and it is suddenly too hard to maintain eye contact with him. “The sweets, that is.”

Stiles makes an aborted gesture with his hand leans back and makes a face Derek can’t really describe or comprehend. However, he does feel as if he’s done something wrong.

“Dude, dude I hate sweet things so much where did you get that idea,” what, “like I mean at first I thought you were just making fun of me or something so I didn’t say anything ya know?”

Derek does not know; Derek is actually very confused right now.

“But you don’t seem like the kind of guy who does that and then Scott said maybe you were trying to woo me with sweets which is just kind of hilarious and cute if that’s what you are doing, which there aren’t really a lot of other options aside from that. But seriously, I hate sweets if you are trying to woo me great sentiment but terrible execution.”

“But you, you drank the sweet one that first time I served you.” Because that happened, it did, he remembers and it makes feel less like he’s made a complete fool of himself the past weeks.

“Oh god, don’t remind me that was terrible that sweet shit in my precious black coffee was an absolute disgrace, you’re lucky I didn’t throw up.” There is a look of absolute disgust on his face and Derek wonders if it was there that first time and he somehow missed it.

“And the next day he handed you the one I marked as sweet.”

“Ah, that is because Scott is a terrible person who enjoys my misery.”

“You were… upset because you couldn’t afford the more expensive drink.” However, even to him it sounds like he’s grasping at straws.

“Yeah, the large coffee, do you know how unsatisfying small coffee is. It’s just disappointing to get to the bottom of that.”

“I see, I’m really sorry that must’ve been awkward for you.”

“Nah Derek, because you see,” he leans against the counter again, and Derek finds himself leaning towards him as well unconsciously, “I may not like sweets, but I sure am sweet on you.”

Then he kisses him, a short sweet press of the lips, before he’s leaning back and smiling cheekily at him.

“I can’t even tell you how long I’ve been wanting to do that.” Stiles says, all wide eyes and smiles, and Derek barely managed to nod because he does know how long he’s been wanting too.

“Would you please go out with me?” He finally manages to choke out, and thinks it worth it when Stiles beams up at him.

“You know, I think I will, just for you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas to my Recipient, and to all who read this fic!
> 
> (And also good luck on exams, for people like me who have them coming up!)


End file.
